


A Girl Like You

by GarnetSeren



Series: Hermione's Hijinks [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Feelings, Feelings Realization, First Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Getting Together, Growing Up Together, Hogwarts, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Love, Male-Female Friendship, Marriage Proposal, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Slow Burn, Teen Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2019-07-16 13:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 20,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16087316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarnetSeren/pseuds/GarnetSeren
Summary: Despite his best efforts, Fred's gaze kept being drawn back to Hermione. For three years she'd just his been his little brother's quirky best friend. His little brother's scarily smart, exceptionally gifted, frizzy haired best friend who had the uncanny ability of always being able to tell him and George apart. Fred had always thought she was alright, especially for a bookworm. But he'd been fond of her in the same way he was fond of Harry; until he wasn't. Because now Fred had to deal with the terrible realisation that Hermione was a GIRL, and a really bloody pretty one at that. And by the time the Yule ball rolled around in his sixth year, Fred knew his feelings for the plucky witch were anything but platonic.*This is an edit/updated version of a story I started in 2018, that includes several new chapters throughout*





	1. The Start of Something (Fred's PoV)

Despite his best efforts, Fred's gaze kept being drawn back to Hermione. For three years she'd just his been his little brother's quirky best friend. His little brother's scarily smart, exceptionally gifted, frizzy haired best friend who had the uncanny ability of being able to tell him and George apart. Fred had always thought she was alright, especially for a bookworm. But he'd been fond of her in the same way he was fond of Harry, up until she'd arrived at the Burrow yesterday morning; with her pretty face, almost tamed hair, and most amazingly of all, a figure that had modest curves in all the right places. Honestly, Fred really had always been fond of Hermione, but now he couldn't help looking at her and wondering where the bloody hell had the awkward little girl gone. Because for the first time, Fred realised Hermione was a _girl_ , and a really bloody pretty girl at that.

So despite his best efforts, his gaze kept wandering towards her as they traipsed in the early morning fog through the woods; though his eyes hadn't narrowed when she blatantly checked out Diggery, no matter what George's smirk would have you believe. Fred's gaze had also been drawn to Hermione as she'd looked around their tents once they got to the World Cup, and tried not to smile at the look of wonder in her eyes at the extension charm his Dad had used. Then his gaze was once again glued to her as they climbed the dizzying heights of the stadium, their ascent only pausing long enough for Fred to wrap a spare Ireland scarf around her neck... to make sure she was supporting the right team. And once again, despite what George's smirk would have you think, his eyes did not narrow when Malfoy of all people bloody winked at her in passing. Though that didn't stop Fred throwing an arm companionably around Hermione's shoulders, when she unexpectedly cheered for the world renowned Viktor Krum along with the rest of them. Considering how unimpressed she'd always been with Quidditch, it was nice to see her enjoying herself.

So what if his heart unexpectedly raced a little faster when she suddenly wrapped an arm around his waist in return, and if he squeezed Hermione a little tighter to his side in reply, that was for Fred alone to know. No matter what George's annoying bloody smirk would have you believe otherwise.

 


	2. Little Moments (George's PoV)

Regardless of what his twin liked to think, George noticed more things than his brother gave him credit for. Case in point, was the pretty obvious crush Fred had developed for Hermione out of seemingly nowhere. Oh, she was certainly pretty enough, clever enough and had filled out nicely since their last term, but that didn't explain how his twin had suddenly developed a crush on their little brother's best friend. It would have been good ammunition to tease Fred with, if it wasn't for the sad little sigh that always accompanied the slightly too long looks he gave Hermione now-a-days. But it wasn't just the looks, George noticed other little quirks that had started to crop up, like how close Fred pressed into Hermione, as they playfully argued with her about their scheme to trick Dumbledor's age line. Now of course, where his twin was George followed, so he'd knelt down pretty close to Hermione's opposite side. But where his elbow had merely knocked against her knee, Fred's whole torso practically pressed flush to the witch's back; a sickeningly adoring look plastered on his face even as she lectured them. However, it also didn't escape George's attention that Hermione didn't seem the least bit bothered about being up close and personal with his twin.

And despite his and Fred's rough housing when their ageing potion back fired spectacularly... as Hermione had annoyingly predicted... George still caught the moment the witch locked eyes with the world renowned Krum. He'd instinctively glanced at his twin, his stomach roiling at the brief flash of _hurt_ that crossed his face. Though perhaps worse than that, was the way Fred pressed his lips together and nodded, as if he was simply accepting he'd just lost his girl to the Bulgarian seeker. Without really thinking, George clapped his twin on the shoulder as a sign of silent support. He might not understand where Fred's sudden interest in Hermione had come from, but he'd still do his damn best to help his brother get the girl.

 


	3. Jester in Shining Armour (Fred's PoV)

Fred couldn't help the small smirk that pulled at his lips as he watched Hermione walk into the Great Hall. She looked amazing, with her usually unruly curls tamed, and showing off her figure in a lovely dress for once; if he was the romantic type, he'd have said she looked like a princess. But Fred was a prankster not a romantic, though that didn't stop him giving her an encouraging smile as she caught his eye. In all honesty, he wasn't terribly surprised she arrived on the arm of none other than Viktor Krum. When he'd cornered her in the library the other day and _casually_ asked if she was going to the ball, Fred had already expected she had a date; even if he was disappointed someone had beat him to it. But since someone _had_ beaten him to it, he was glad that at least it was the Bulgarian seeker, and not his miserable excuse of a brother. He honestly had no idea why Hermione wasted her time on Ron. Fred had heard the way his little brother often spoke to her, and George had held him back from pummelling their younger sibling on more than one occasion. Sure, Granger was a pretty straight laced student and usually disapproved of their pranks, but she was the brightest witch of their age. Stunningly intelligent and stupidly pretty to boot. She could do so much better than Ron. So he gave her a quick wink as Krum pulled her into a formal hold, and though he secretly wished he was the one Hermione was dancing with, Fred was incredibly pleased for her. She looked happy, and hopefully he'd be able to at least steal a dance or two with her before the end of the night.

However, the night ended with Fred overhearing his stupid little brother once again being a complete prat with Hermione. George and Angelina both gave him knowing looks, before the latter told him to get his head out his arse and go check she was okay. He gave Ang a quick apologetic hug, rolling his eyes as George promised to escort her back to the dorm, and ran after Hermione. Her crying on the stairs was _not_ what Fred expected to see. She was the smartest, bravest witch he'd ever met; he'd never seen her cry, despite the terrifying situations she ended up in whilst trying to protect Harry. But there she was, her face hidden by her hands as she quietly sobbed. A trio of fifth year girls looked like they were about to approach Hermione, but Fred gave them a friendly wink, hoping that they got the hint he'd take care of her, before he squatted down in front of her. She looked up immediately, her eyes accusing even as tears steadily rolled down her cheeks. But instead of the tongue lashing that usually followed that look, Hermione blinked at him, clearly surprised it was Fred instead of anyone else. He was about to ask what he could do to help, already knowing it was his ass-hole brother that had upset her, before she unexpectedly flung her arms around his neck. Despite being shocked by the sudden display of affection, Fred immediately pulled her into a tight hug. Though as much as he liked having her in his arms, he knew Hermione would regret breaking down where everyone could see. He had to think fast.

“Pretend you're half asleep,” he whispered.

Hermione tensed, obviously about to lift her head from where it was buried into his shoulder, when a group of students wandered passed giving them curious looks. That was all the hint she needed to figure out his plan, and Fred barely controlled his smirk when she yawned dramatically, before sleepily mumbling how tired she was.

“D'ya need any help?”

Fred glanced behind him as he heard Seamus' distinct voice and he smiled at his fellow Griffindor, as the Irishman bent down to retrieve the shoes Hermione had kicked off before either of them had arrived. Unsurprisingly, Dean wasn't far behind him, and the guy smiled when he saw Fred with Griffindor's golden girl; Hermione's face still hidden against his shoulder.

“Surprised she not dead to the world already. I don't think her and Krum left the dance floor all night.”

Chuckling, Fred managed to coax his arm around the floaty ruffles of Hermione's dress, allowing him to pick her up bridal style. She sucked in a surprised sounding breath, but amazingly didn't tense and give away her conscious state. He nodded for the two slightly younger guys to lead the way, and cradled Hermione close to his chest as he carried her up the stone staircase.

“You didn't have to do this,” she whispered, her voice wavering slightly.

“Of course I did,” Fred murmured in reply. “Wasn't going to leave you in that state, and I know you wouldn't want anyone to see you like that.”

To his surprise, he felt her soft lips gentle press to a kiss his jaw. “Thanks, Fred.”

He squeezed her a little tighter in response, wondering how she always seemed to know him apart from George... not even their own mother could do that most of the time... but tonight wasn't the time to ask. Hermione was in need of comfort but with other people around, Fred didn't dare try to broach the subject with her, so he settled for holding her a little closer to his chest. However, as her floral perfume wafted pleasantly around them, he hoped she'd let him see her vulnerable side again; because he so desperately wanted Hermione to realise he cared.

 


	4. Quiet Moments (Hermione's PoV)

With everything that had happened since the Triwizard Tournament, time had gone both ridiculously quickly and far too slowly, before Hermione found herself back in the wizarding world. But instead of the familiar and comforting warmth of the Burrow, she joined the Weasley's and Sirius at Grimmauld Place. In all honesty, the house gave her the creeps; Sirius had given her more understanding smile in the hour she'd be there, than Hermione could ever remember seeing in her entire life. Not that being there was _all_ bad. Her favourite Weasley's were with her, and Harry would be joining them shortly. But despite being happy to be back with her friends, Hermione just couldn't stop her gaze from wandering over to Fred.

When he'd first seen her, the elder twin had swept her into a surprisingly tight hug, and her fingers had twitched to reach up and ruffle his bright ginger hair; hair that was incredibly shorter than the last time she'd seen him. And although Fred was obviously still an incredibly attractive guy with a truly infectious smile, Hermione had secretly really liked his longer hair and was a little disappointed to see it gone. Not that she said any of that out loud, though if Ginny's sly smile at dinner that night was anything to go by, Hermione figured her closest girlfriend certainly suspected something. Perhaps the younger twin did too, since George insisted on cosying up to her that evening in the library, pushing a disgruntled Crookshanks off her lap so he could lay his head on her denim covered thigh. He'd complained of a headache and asked if she could give him a massage like she often did for Ginny, which obviously wasn't the most suspicious thing in the world, but the way George grinned up at her and asked what she thought of his... and Fred's... new hair cut certainly was. Still, Hermione played along, loudly stating that Ginny had always had the best hair, but Bill was by far the better looking brother.

Naturally, it got the desired effect, since in his haste to sit up and argue with her, George promptly fell off the sofa. Hermione couldn't help laughing, and even Ron cracked a smile despite the accidental dig at him. But it was Fred's reaction that made her night. He caught her eye from across the room, smiling that infectious smirk that brought out his dimples, before he winked at her. Butterflies promptly exploded in her stomach but instead of reacting, Hermione simply picked up her book, biting back a smile as Fred came over to lay his head on her knee, where George had previously been; her hand absent-mindedly carding through his hair as she began to silently read.

 


	5. Spectral Charms (Fred's PoV)

When Hermione had first broached the subject of this little club of theirs, Fred and George had been some of the first to sign up. They'd jumped in whole heartedly, to get one over on Umbridge and not to spend extra time with Hermione. Which was a pleasant bonus, but one Fred would deny whole heartedly if anyone asked. Which no one did. Though that didn't stop George and Lee grinning at him knowingly, if they ever caught Fred and his favourite witch talking privately together. Not that anything they discussed _was_ private, since it was mostly pointers about duelling and different protection spells Hermione knew; she was the brightest witch of their age after all, and Fred would have been an idiot not to ask for her advise. She was amazing, and he probably preferred partnering her even over George, not that it happened all that often, though that didn't stop his gaze from finding her. Case in point was this current lesson... meeting... Fred wasn't really sure what to call them any more. But still, his eyes didn't leave Hermione, even as George leant over and made a bet with him.

There was a fire in Hermione's chocolate eyes that Fred always loved seeing, though this time it was directed at Ron. It was obvious that whatever their idiot little brother had said, had riled up the plucky witch. Sure, Harry led these secret sessions, but Fred was damn sure Hermione had taught 'the boy who lived' in the first place. Perhaps not everything, but a damn lot of it. They should be running the classes together in Fred's opinion... her and Harry, not him and Hermione... they were almost as dynamic a duo as he and George were, so he was certain it was something Ron had stupidly said to her, that meant she didn't want to run the meetings with Harry. Which as far as Fred was concerned, meant his idiot brother deserved to get his ass handed to him by Hermione; she would always be a sure bet for him. Though to be honest, Stupefy wasn't what he thought she'd cast, since from the way she'd glowered at Ron before hand, Fred reckoned the git probably deserved a lot worse than being blasted across the room. It was hilarious though, and funnier for the fact Ron tried to play it off like he'd _let_ the brightest witch of their age beat him; because of course his ego wouldn't let him admit Hermione was brilliant.

So Fred was about to offer a proper duel to the talented witch, when Harry cleared his throat then suggested moving the session along to conjuring a Patronus; which was the regular theme of the meetings. Forty five minutes dedicated to duelling, with the rest of the time spent trying to master the charm. It was hard for Fred, trying to narrow down his happiest memory. He'd racked his brain every session, trying to think of all the joyful times he'd had with George, but nothing was working, even as his twin's coyote ran around them both. But then Fred heard Hermione giggle, and unable to help it, he turned to look at her. A spectral otter swam around the witch, twisting and turning, even dashing to nuzzle her cheek before racing off... towards him. Hermione looked up then, her beaming smile directed at him; almost as if she wanted to share her moment of excitement, as the otter raced towards him. She gave a little nod, a silent request for him to try conjure his own Patronus again. So after a steadying breath, Fred concentrated. Though instead of George, his mind wandered to all the little moments he'd shared with Hermione, and he gasped in shock as a hyena suddenly appeared.

“It suits you.”

Hermione's warm brown eyes were riveted to how their Patronus swirled around each other, as they raced around the room. Fred fought for all of a second with himself, before he slung an arm companionably around her shoulders, barely resisting the urge to pull her in closer.

“Oh... because of my infectious laugh?” he grinned down at her.

“I was thinking more energetic, outgoing, strong willed and loyal,” she replied, smiling up at him.

Fred's heart pounded in his chest at her compliment, but before he could reply, a small terrier Patronus barrelled into them and knocked them off balance. Though even as his hand shot out to steady Hermione, Fred glanced in the direction the spell had come from, finding Ron glaring at them. Of course his favourite witch realised too, and her sigh sounded equal parts annoyed and sad. Shaking his head, Fred went with his gut feeling and pulled Hermione tighter into his side, giving her a one-armed hug.

“He's an idiot,” he stated, barely resisting the desire to press a kiss to her wayward curls.

She huffed out a laugh, before squeezing him back. “I know.”

 


	6. Lexicon Love (Fred's PoV)

“Accomplished.”

“Beautiful.”

“Charming.”

“Diligent.”

“Exciting.”

A group of them were huddled up near the common room fire place, the majority of their hands still bathing in small bowls of Murtlap Essence that Hermione had brewed, to help ease the painful cuts from the pink abomination's evil black quill. Since they weren't able to play things like Exploding Snap one handed, and had quickly grown bored of childish games like 'I Spy', Hermione had suggested a game she'd played with her parents. The 'Adjective Game' she'd called it, and their small group had readily agreed to play. George had been the first to mess up, having not been able to think of a word beginning with 'I' in the first round. Lee had been next to be disqualified, then Harry followed by Ginny, until it was only Fred and Hermione left playing. He suspected George and Lee had probably made some sort of bet on the outcome, though whether it was about who would win... most likely Hermione... or if he'd blurt out his feelings for the exceptional witch during the game... also worryingly likely... Fred wasn't sure. But in all honesty, he didn't really care. The game was affording him the chance to stare at Hermione unabashed, watching how the flickering fire brought out cinnamon and caramel tones in her tawny hair.

“Fierce,” Fred grinned.

“Gifted,” she replied, chuckling.

“Heroic.”

“Intelligent.”

“Judicious.”

Hermione tilted her head in a small nod of acknowledgement at his word, and Fred couldn't help feeling quite proud of the fact. He hadn't expected a simple game to give him a chance to show the brightest witch of their age... and subject of his mostly secret crush... that he wasn't just a joker. He had brains, even if he didn't exactly apply them to scholastic studies like she did, but so far, Hermione had seemed impressed with his knowledge of vocabulary. However, Fred wasn't sure if she'd realised he was using his goes to pay her a compliment.

“Kindhearted,” she said, smiling softly.

Fred blinked, wondering perhaps if he wasn't the only one playing a hidden game, as he countered with: “Lovely.”

At that exact moment, Ron stomped down the stairs from his dorm room, and immediately took to scowling at him and Hermione. Fred frowned at his younger brother for a moment, wondering what the hell his problem was, before turning back to his welcome adversary. The beautiful witch ignored her supposed friend, choosing instead to smirk at him as she subtly nodded towards Ron.

“Melodramatic.”

“Noxious.”

Hermione huffed a laugh at his counter, and Fred hid his pleased smile by taking a sip of his now cold tea. He wasn't totally surprised when she used to opportunity to check his hand, her fingers gently brushing over the abused skin, before lowering it back into the slightly yellow liquid to soak for a little longer. However, Fred wasn't prepared for her to smile up at him almost affectionately and said:

“Obstinate.”

“Passionate,” he replied, without skipping a beat.

“Quick-witted.”

“Radiant.”

She shook her head. “Sarcastic.”

Unable to help himself, Fred leant slightly towards as he stated: “Tempting.”

“Unique... ish.”

The witch smirked as her chocolate eyes quickly darted towards George, before returning to meet his gaze. Fred couldn't help laugh, his heart pounding as he realised Hermione _was_ genuinely playing the same undercurrent game as he was. He couldn't believe that she thought half of the things she'd said about him, but the actions that had accompanied her last word proved she was using the game just as he was. So his tongue darted out to wet his suddenly dry lips, before he replied.

“Vibrant.”

“Witty.”

“Yummy.”

Hermione's laugh was utterly delightful, even if George was currently groaning and Lee was actually facepalming. Harry and Ginny didn't seem to have noticed what was going on, too busy trying to pretend they weren't stealing glances at each other, whilst the other wasn't looking; Ron had stormed off again, in an obvious bad mood for reasons unknown. But right then Fred didn't really care, especially when Hermione reached over to ruffle the short but messy hair he was still trying to get use to. She smiled at him warmly as she finished the game with:

“Zany.”

 


	7. Stand By Me (Hermione's PoV)

The fire was barely more than embers when Hermione heard George bid her goodnight, before he headed up the stone stairs to the boys' dormitory. Her and the twins had been the only ones left in the common room, and she raised one hand in farewell, whilst carefully marking her page in the heavy tome she'd been reading by the 'lumos' light she'd conjured. Finally she looked up, not exactly surprised to see Fred still sat by the hearth where he and his twin had been... well, Hermione wasn't entirely sure what they'd been doing. But no matter how absorbed the brothers had been, she knew it wasn't for study purposes. Shaking her head, she moved to sit beside him, smiling softly at the way his head immediately lolled to rest on her shoulder. She could never explain why, but she was incredibly fond of the twins; Fred especially. They'd developed a surprisingly easy friendship, despite the amount of times they butted heads about the brothers testing their products on first years. And come to think of it, Hermione supposed the twins must have been researching something for their next prank or product, though as much as she hated them testing on the students, she couldn't help admire their drive to pursue their dream.

“Are you alright?” she asked, softly.

Fred sighed. “Do you think we're mad?”

There was something off about his tone that caught Hermione by surprise; she didn't think she'd ever heard either of the Weasley twins so serious. Not that she was one of those that bought into the larger than life personas they projected. Naturally she knew they were genuinely boisterous pranksters that loved making other people laugh, but she also knew there was far more to the pair than what they let people see.

“Of course... but all the best people are.”

Fred gave a half hearted chuckled, though Hermione doubted that he understood the reference; which actually made her wonder what Fred would think of some of her favourite muggle books, like Alice in Wonderland, but that was a topic for another time. She knew about the twins' dream to open a joke shop together, and also knew that no one in their family really supported them. Well, their father might... but Hermione knew she wasn't the only one that had heard the howler that Mrs Weasley had sent just that morning: telling the twins their dream was hair-brained and they needed to buck up their ideas and study harder. Her heart had hurt on their behalf, because everyone just seemed to think the twins were simply jokers. But even though Hermione _loved_ her studies, she understood not everyone was like her, and she really felt for the twins. So without much thought, she moved to settle her hand lightly on top of Fred's scarred one, where it rested on the faded red rug.

“I'm guessing you mean the shop,” she stated, and felt him nod in reply. “Honestly, I think you're incredibly brave. Setting up your own business is a huge undertaking, and I've seen how seriously you're both taking it... it's probably the only thing I've ever seen you take serious. You've set a goal and you're working towards it, which is admirable. Even if I don't approve of your testing methods.”

“You know we'd never given them anything we haven't tried ourselves,” he said, quietly.

“I figured that out fairly early on,” Hermione admitted. “But I still can't condone it, and not just because I'm a prefect. I can see how import this enterprise is to you, but if you want it to be a genuinely reputable business, you can't be testing on first years. I've looked it up. For the type of products you want to make, there's rules and regulations you have to abide by to have them authorised for sale. There's legislations you have to adhere to now, in order to avoid any pit falls in the future.”

Fred sat up straight and turned to look at her, seeming stunned. “You've looked it up... for us?”

Hermione shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable. “I don't like having to tell you off or dock points from Gryffindor when I catch you testing your products. I wanted to help you find a better alternative. A safe one... never mind one that stood up to industry practises.”

“But why go to all that effort?” he asked, seeming genuinely perplexed.

“What sort of friend would I be if I didn't support you?” she countered, trying not to sound indignant. “Look, I've already told you, I think what you're doing is admirable. I can see how hard you're both working, and some of your inventions are quite frankly amazing. You may hide it behind your jokes and pranks, but the pair of you are incredibly intelligent... you'd have to be, to make even your most basic products. You should be proud of what you're doing. There's just certain aspects that you need to improve, like your test subjects... for instance, they should be volunteers and over sixteen years old for the type of products you've invented.”

“Where did you even find that out?” Fred smiled, still looking at her a little strangely.

“Believe it or not, the library has a small area dedicated to business. Oddly near the restricted section. There's not that many, a couple on law and legislation, and even an accounting book.”

“That might be useful,” he admitted, sheepishly.

Hermione chuckled. “Oh... do my ears deceive me, or did the infamous Frederick Fabian Weasley just admit a book could be useful.”

“Hey! Don't go mixing me up with dear ickle Ronnikins,” Fred huffed, barely containing his smile. “I actually know how to read.”

Fighting her own grin, Hermione moved to rest her head on his shoulder, sighing almost contentedly when his arm slowly slid around her waist. There had been more and more of these little moments. Quiet, unassuming things. Where the line of friendship was gently prodded, where there was a hint that there could be something more between them. They always left Hermione feeling a strange mix of happy and calm, but with a dozen butterflies rampaging in her stomach. A sensation that only grew stronger when she felt Fred snuggled in closer, prompting her to whisper:

“I wouldn't dream of it.”

 


	8. A Grand Farewell (Fred's PoV)

There was a peculiar weight that settled in Fred's gut as he whizzed along beside his twin, their brooms ducking a weaving as they threw the last of the fireworks... ones Lee had seemingly pulled out of thin air... at Umbridge and her stupid Inquisitorial Squad. Peeves whooped and jeered behind them, the poltergeist causing more mischief in his wake, whilst George directed several firecrackers towards Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy. But instead of feeling a sense of elation like he'd expected, Fred felt almost hollow; not that it stopped him plastering a grin on his face when a crowd began to amass in the courtyard. However, it wasn't until he spotted a familiar head of unruly hair that he realised what the problem was. They'd grown closer over the past few months, him and Hermione. From her surprising support of their goals, and her obvious concern that he'd land himself in more trouble with Umbridge after their last spectacular fireworks prank, to the almost shy smile she'd given him, when Fred had admitted they'd put the pranking on hold over the Easter break, just so they wouldn't risk disrupting any of the fifth year's... namely Hermione's... study time.

He'd been stunned when she'd sidled up to him just before heading to bed one night, quietly suggesting they try something from Flitwick's class for their next prank. Fred had been surprised at her suggestion, not only because the prefect was showcasing her more rebellious streak, but because he had to wonder if Hermione knew that it was his and George's favourite lesson; the knowing smile she'd given him before she headed for her dormitory had told him that yes, she did know, and the realisation that she paid so much attention to him, had caused Fred to fall asleep grinning like a love sick fool. And whether she knew it or not, Hermione's suggestion had been the catalyst for them creating the swamp that proudly rendered the corridor outside of Charms completely useless. They'd planned it to be their grand finale, regardless of being caught by the pink devil and the sadistic Finch. However, Fred really had intended to say goodbye to Hermione before he left, and although he felt guilty about not managing to, he knew he had a job to do. So after high-fiving his twin, Fred leant to the side, his broom effortless obeying the command as he turned in mid air. With a flick of his wand, he enchanted his last firecracker and without even needing to look, he tossed it in perfect synchronicity with George. A large dragon roared to life... a fiery incarnation of the Welsh Green they knew Ginny loved... that swooped down in order to chase Umbridge through the courtyard.

Out the corner of his eye, Fred noticed Hermione starting to cheer for them with the others, though her smile didn't quite meet her eyes. So when the enchanted dragon's jaws snapped shut over Umbridge, distracting everyone else, Fred couldn't resist turning some errant sparks into an otter, and sent it swirling towards his favourite bookworm; hoping Hermione understand that he was thinking of her. Another subtle flick of his wand had it bursting into a small shower of Griffindor burgundy and gold above the witch, before he turned his attention back to the havoc he was wreaking with George. His twin gave him a knowing look as they transfigured the very last cracker explosion into a giant, shimmering gold 'W' and with a finally whoop of victory, they sped off over the Black Lake. It was only then that Fred's heart began to race, as it suddenly hit him what they'd done. That they'd given the biggest middle finger to Umbridge that they could, and Fred had to admit it _did_ feel good; dealing with their mother was going to be a nightmare, but honestly, he knew it was worth it. However, he just hoped Hermione would forgive him for leaving without saying goodbye.

 


	9. A Moment in Time (Hermione's PoV)

Hermione felt a slight wave of apprehension as she stepped over the threshold of Weasley Wizarding Wheeze. She hadn't seen Fred since the twins' _very_ public exit from Hogwarts, and before that, she hadn't been entirely sure where they were heading; though Hermione doubted that really mattered any more, not when Fred was a successful business man now, and she was still just a school girl. Nevermind the fact she was also sporting an unfortunate black eye, thanks to one of the twins' prototypes that had been left in the Burrow. However, nervous or not, just a glimpse out of the corner of her eye had Hermione lifting her head to peer around. The shop was... a riot. Not that she'd ever expect anything less from Fred and George. It was crammed full of _stuff_. A host of colours vying for attention, mountains of products demanding to be noticed. It was noisy and brash but oddly wonderful for it, just like the Weasley twins. In all honestly, Hermione couldn't help wandering through some of the tightly packed isle, Harry keeping pace just a step behind her. A box that reminded her somewhat of those awful Mills and Boons books her mother secretly liked caught her eye, and for the life of her, Hermione couldn't resist turning it over and reading the information on the back. And although she'd known for a number of years there was more to the twins than the joking pranksters everyone else saw, she couldn't help being impressed.

“You know,” she said, showing Harry the label. “That really is extraordinary magic.”

“For that, Hermione, you can have one for free.”

She did not jump, no matter what Harry's little smirk said otherwise. Though she smoothed out the front of her camel colour jacket, hoping to appear nonchalant as she tried to check that her hair was still somewhat tamed in it's braid, before she turned to face the owner of the voice that she hadn't heard for far too long. For a moment, Hermione debated between ducking her head to hide the shiner and glaring at the possible perpetrator as he shook Harry's hand in greeting, but when Fred reached out for her hand, instead of shaking it like he had her best friend's, the redhead simply held it in mid air as he stared at her.

“What's happened to your face 'Mione?”

“Your punching telescope,” she stated, smiling despite herself.

“Blimey! I forgot about those...”

What followed those hurried words, was Fred frantically patting down his obnoxiously bright magenta robes... that clashed dreadfully with his ginger hair... with one hand. He seemed reluctant to let go of hers, but eventually fished out a small tub from one of his hidden pockets, and offered it to her an apologetic smile. How she managed to unscrew it one handed, Hermione wasn't sure, but she was also oddly unwilling to let go of Fred's hand. But manage she did, and gave the thick yellow paste a dubious sniff.

“It is safe isn't it?”

She almost regretted those words immediately, when a brief look of hurt flashed across Fred's handsome face. But the expression was gone in an instant, replaced by a customary smile, though it was far from the teasing grin he usually wore. Softer somehow. Though that didn't prepare Hermione for when Fred dipped a finger into the paste, before ever so gently smoothing it on the bruised skin around her eye. She sucked in a surprised breath at his careful caress, and was immensely glad it was dear Harry and not Ron, that was pretending to look around and not paying them any attention, despite whatever _this_ was happening right in front of him.

“Of course it is, the bruise'll be gone within the hour,” Fred told her, reassuringly. “And yes I'm sure. You know we test out our products personally, so we developed the cream to cover up any mishaps that happen.”

“Thanks Fred,” she replied, quietly.

He smiled at her, squeezing her hand, before seeming to realise he still had hold of it. He quickly let go, clearing his throat a little awkwardly, and although Hermione was left feeling oddly bereft that his hand was no longer holding hers, she couldn't help chuckle when Fred obviously realised Harry was still with them. He seemed to gape for a moment, almost shocked that they hadn't been alone, before recovering admirably.

“Come on you two, I'll give you the tour.”

And _there_ was the showman Hermione knew nearly everyone else saw. But still she followed Fred, smiling slightly, though she subtly elbowed Harry in the ribs when he had the audacity to go and wink at her. To her horror, Hermione felt her cheeks begin to burn, and she hoped against hope she wasn't blushing. Even when someone as famous as Viktor had taken notice of her, she'd never been the swooning type, and she refused to be one now. Hopefully if anyone noticed, they'd think it was the heat from the crowded shop. Beside, Hermione doubted someone would guess she was blushing over Fred Weasley. Well, no one except Harry at any rate. But luckily, she trusted her best friend to keep her secret.

 


	10. Solidarity (Fred's PoV)

Why he'd started writing to Hermione when she went back to Hogwarts, Fred didn't know. Actually... that was a complete lie, he knew exactly why he was writing to her. He missed her, plain and simple. It was more of a 'why now', when he'd managed to talk himself out of it ever since he and George had left Hogwarts so spectacularly the year before. But once again, that was a lie. Fred knew exactly why he'd started writing to her, seemingly suddenly, and it was all thanks to one of Ginny's weekly letters. Because during his little sister's rant about Ron being a complete ass-hole, which was honestly no surprise to either twin, Fred noticed that Ginny not only raved about their brother's reaction to her kissing Dean... who wasn't a bad bloke in all fairness... but also let slip Ron was also being a prat with Hermione; all because she'd _probably_ snogged Krum before he left for Bulgaria. Fred remembered all too well the night of that fateful Yule ball, and how much his idiot brother had hurt the plucky witch. So unable to think of a valid reason not to check up on her, Fred had finally gathered his courage and written to Hermione.

From then on, they'd exchanged letters weekly; Fred trying not to smile too dopily whenever he spotted the bright witch's distinctive script. He cheered her on when she worried about her classes, commiserated with her when she felt she could be doing more to help the Order, and was furious on her behalf when he found out what a hypocrite Ron was being; though incidently, it was another letter from Ginny that let that titbit slip. But eventually, Fred had managed to coax Hermione to talk about it, and he could understand the sense of hurt and almost betrayal she felt over his brother's thoughtless actions. He wanted desperately to be able to comfort her in person, so he'd been incredibly disappointed once he found out Hermione wouldn't be visiting the Burrow over Christmas break... like she usually did... and had only crumpled up five bits of parchment, before finally admitting he'd have liked to have seen her. Of course, he'd hidden the true depth of his feelings in a joke, but had grinned from ear to ear when her reply had simply stated she missed him too. Though for the life of him, Fred couldn't decide if he was happier that Hermione felt the same, or the fact she knew him well enough to understand what he hadn't directly said. So drawing up all the courage he had in him, he'd asked her... in a round about way... if she fancied meeting up during their next Hogsmead visit. Of course, considering the times they were living in, Fred wasn't entirely surprised when the school cancelled the trip. Naturally, he was gutted, and George had given him sideways looks all day; not believing for one moment he was disappointed about not seeing Ron for his birthday. However, none of that matter when Hermione's patronus suddenly appeared as they were exiting the Three Brooms.

They raced to the castle despite barely understanding her frantic message, though both twins had heard 'Ron' and 'hospital wing'. In all honesty, Fred was terrified for his baby brother, and knew his hands shook as he rested them on the back of Hermione's chair; wanting to be close to her, but unable to look at her deathly white face and resist the urge to hold her. She looked devastated, and Fred could appreciate why. In her last letter, Hermione had admitted she wanted to try and mend the rift between herself and his little brother... she missed the trio they'd been with Harry. So she must have been petrified that she'd never get the chance to make things right, considering how close to death Ron had been. Fred really could appreciate that, and wondered how he'd feel it they were sat beside Percy's hospital bed, and the decidedly dark turn in the group's hushed conversation didn't help matters. Hearing Harry recount what had happened was one thing, but discussing if Ron could have been the intended victim with George, Ginny and Hermione was another. And of course, being the brightest witch of their age, his favourite bookworm had her own thoughts on the matter; and though ominous, Fred couldn't fault her reasoning. But before he could say anything in reply, his parents bustled into the ward and before he knew it, Madam Pomfrey was reminding them Ron could only have six visitors at a time. Harry and Hermione got up almost immediately, leaving Fred barely enough time to return the strained smile Hermione offered him before she left.

However, as much as Fred wanted to go after the witch, to catch just a few fleeting moments with her to check how she was really holding up... and maybe get a chance to actually tell someone how he was feeling about all of this, or just get a damn hug... he knew his family needed him. So Fred ushered his mum into the chair Hermione had vacated, his arm curling around her shaking shoulders, whilst George hugged Ginny from behind. And despite knowing his family needed him to remain strong and upbeat for their sakes, Fred really hoped he'd get the chance to properly talk to Hermione soon; let the confident act drop even for just a little while.

 


	11. A Silent Salute (Hermione's PoV)

Hermione's hand itched to reach out and snag Fred's. It had been so surreal seeing him again, as she sat beside another of his brother's hospital beds; this time Bill's. They were the only two times she'd seen him since returning to school, which made a grand total of three times since the twin's spectacular exit from Hogwarts. But despite the butterflies Fred's presence always brought, Hermione's heart had been heavy. Not just from everything that had happened with the Death Eaters whilst Harry was on his mission with Professor Dumbledore, or from needing to watch over another injured Weasley, but because she couldn't shake the feeling that one day she'd be forced to sit beside Fred's sick bed. Or worse. It had been a sombre thought, which had only been made worse by Harry's devastating news about the headmaster. And now... now she sat beside the Black Lake watching a sobbing Hagrid carry Professor Dumbledore's body, but Hermione barely listened to the words that were being said by the pastor... for lack of a better word... and when Harry briefly caught her eye, Hermione knew her best friend was thinking the same thing as she was; the words spoken didn't do the headmaster justice. They were empty, and told nothing of the man he was. She hated everything about that day, and not just because representatives of the Ministry were there defiling his memory; especially Scrimgeour and that evil harpy Umbridge.

The only things that befitted the headmaster memory was the Merpeople's singing, and the Centaur's salute. But then, from where she sat stony faced next to the Minister, Professor McGonagall rose. Silently, the older witch raised her wand skyward, the tip glowing dimly. Hermione's breath caught and she swallowed passed the lump in her throat, automatically moving to mirrored her favourite teacher's gesture, just as Madam Pomfrey did the same. Beside Hermione, Fred stood, his little finger subtly linking with hers as his other hand raised his wand in the silent salute. Harry followed suit, and George. Then Luna and Ginny, along with a still recovering Neville and Ron. Soon, the enter student body and teachers were on their feet, as well as the surviving members of the Order. They were quickly joined by the students' parents, family members, and the other witches and wizards who had come to pay their respects to Dumbledore. Even Bill, who was heavily relying on his fiancée Fluer to hold him up, stood to honour the headmaster. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed Scrimgeour was looking around surprised, and the toady Umbridge looked like she'd just swallowed a particularly large fly. But right then they didn't matter, perhaps they never had.

In the silence, only Fawkes' woeful song could be heard. Fresh tears rolled down Hermione's cheeks as smoke rose around the professor's body, shrouding it from view until the white hot fire suddenly disappeared. In it's place was a marble tomb, and she diligently fought the sob that wanted to escape. Whether or not Fred realised how much she was struggling, Hermione didn't know, but she was so grateful when he slowly move to fully hold her hand in his. Their fingers entwined almost instinctive, and she squeezed back just as hard, when Fred tightened the hold he hand on her. For once, neither of them care who saw their affection for each other.

 


	12. Eye of the Storm (Fred's PoV)

Fred hadn't seen much of Hermione since Dumbledor's funeral. She'd left almost immediately after, saying she had to check on her parents, which was fair enough all things considered. But there'd barely been any word for week... to him, or Ron or Ginny... until he and George had received an owl from their sister to say Hermione was back. They'd headed over as soon as they'd shut up shop, but instead of the reunion he was hoping for, Fred found himself and his twin being pulled into the new ploy to escort Harry. Not that he'd minded helping out, but perhaps whilst watching Bill and Fluer as well as Tonks and Lupin together... heck, even his own parents... Fred felt a little envious that the nearest he got to a private moment with Hermione, was helping her tie her infamous hair back into a braid, when she'd gotten too annoyed with it perpetually escaping. When she'd given him a quizzical look, Fred had only been slightly embarrassed to admit he'd learnt to help Ginny when she was little, since their mum had often been too busy running after everyone else.

Still, despite being a little abashed, Fred figured the way Hermione had discretely squeezed his hand in silent thanks had been more than worth it; not to mention the occasional glances she given him as they flew to Privet Drive, usually when the wind only managed to whip a few strands of her hair out of the braid. And despite knowing how Hermione felt about brooms... or perhaps because of it... Fred was rather impressed with how she handled the whole journey. But although he smiled with the rest of the group, as Hermione ran to practically tackle Harry the moment they landed at his Aunt's house, Fred couldn't help the small twinge of jealousy regarding the fact that she never greeted him like that. Though no, perhaps jealousy wasn't the right word. He wasn't jealous of Harry or the close friendship he had with Hermione; they were best friends, practically siblings. Hermione acted with Harry, like Ginny acted with George and himself. However, that didn't stop the pang Fred felt when he watch the two of them, since he desperately wished he could go around hugging the plucky witch whenever he wanted, not caring what anyone else thought. But his envy didn't stop him from springing to Hermione's aid, when Harry was predictably bull-headed about the plan. Fred tried to diffuse the potential argument, since Ron decided to wade in with his boat-like feet. His quip about getting stuck looking like Harry didn't get the laughter Fred was hoping for, but he still felt pleased by Hermione's small smile of thanks; then promptly bit the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing, when she commented on the 'tastiness' of Harry's polyjuice potion.

Fred also counted another win when Hermione huffed a laugh at his and George's 'identical' quip, not entirely sure if it was healthy to be keeping track of the amount of times he'd managed to make his favourite witch smile. But Hermione hadn't seemed herself since coming back, and Fred was itching to get a moment alone with her to ask what was wrong. But all that was pushed to the back of his mind during the bloody shit-show... and yes, his mum probably would scrub his mouth out with soap if she ever heard him say that allowed... that followed. Death Eaters. Dozens of them. It was madness. Utter chaos. How he and his dad got through it, Fred didn't know. His hands were shaking from worry and that adrenalin-thingy Hermione had once told him about, by the time they'd grabbed their portkey. But returning to the Burrow wasn't the homecoming it usually was, and despite finally getting that running hug he'd always wanted from Hermione, Fred knew immediately that something was wrong. He didn't pay any attention to his dad or Kingsley's rapid-fire wary questions, because as soon as Hermione whispered that George had been injured, he grabbed her hand and raced into the house; and Fred wasn't too proud to admit that the only thing that had kept him upright, when he peered over the back of the sofa and saw his twin covered in blood, was the tight hold Hermione had on his fingers. Fred squeezed her hand in silent thanks before she slipped back through the front door with Lupin, joining Kingsley in his vigil as he waited for the others.

Cautiously, Fred took a seat beside George, not wanting to be parted from his twin when it was so clear he could have lost him. They hugged each other tightly, not commenting on the tears in each other's eyes. But that didn't stop them from trying to make each other laugh, or cracking smiles when they first heard Hermione shout for Ron, followed by the their mum shout for Bill. But after that, when everyone had traipsed back inside, Fred had taken one look at Hermione's face and his smile had faltered. Of course, she was always the most serious of all of their friends, but it was the tears swimming in her chocolate eyes that gave him real pause. So Fred knocked back the fire whiskey Bill poured and toasted old Mad-Eye... who's loss settled heavily on all of them... before naturally backing Harry, when the guy adamantly stated he trusted them _all_ and insisted they couldn't doubt each other at a time like this. And honestly, considering everything they'd just gone through and survived, when his stomach flipped at the small thankful smile Hermione gave him afterwards, Fred didn't really mind the annoyingly knowing look George gave him.

 


	13. Fly on the Wall (George's PoV)

George watched silently from his reclining spot on the couch, wondering if Fred and Hermione had any idea he wasn't asleep, and that their little _rendezvous_ wasn't actually private. Not that they were doing anything that really needed privacy; they weren't snogging each other's faces off, for instance. Which considering it was pretty obvious... at least to George... that the pair were crazy about each other, begged the question why they weren't currently snogging each other's faces off? He really hoped it wasn't because of Ron. Because his stupid git of a little brother was always a complete tosser with Hermione, whereas Fred had always had a soft spot for the plucky witch. His twin's crush had been years in the making, and George _really_ wished one of them would have the guts to finally do something about it.

But as it was, he watched them from the other end of the room, as they sat quietly together by the still flickering fire. There was absolutely nothing salacious about what they were doing, and honestly, George probably wouldn't have even looked at them twice, if he didn't know about his brother's not-as-secrect-as-he-probably-thought crush. But oddly, that made seeing them together feel even more like he was intruding on a private moment, probably more so than if he'd caught them snogging; they deserved to get more than a little time together, because Merlin knew how bad things were going to get from here on in. So George hoped against hope, that one of them would get their act together... put him out of his misery, so to speak. They looked so good together, they worked so well together. It was nearly heartbreaking to watch his twin so hesitantly brush some of Hermione's unruly waves out of her face, as if he was scared of either being caught or that the gesture wasn't welcome. Which was madness. Since it was plain Hermione's face that she adored Fred just as much as he adored her. It was driving George insane watching the two tip-toe around each other, but then an idea struck. It would soon be Bill and Fluer's wedding, and maybe if he roped in Ginny, they could give the pair a little push in the right direction... probably... maybe... hopefully.

 


	14. Gate Crashers (Fred's PoV)

As it so often did, Fred's gaze lingered on Hermione. Because even though she'd been staying at the Burrow, he felt like he'd barely seen her with all the wedding planning that had been happening. He blamed his mum for that, rather than Bill. He couldn't fault his oldest brother for wanting to get married before things got worse, and the fact he got to see Hermione done up in a pretty lilac dress, with her wild hair somehow tamed into sleek waterfall curls was a definite bonus. And Fred was just about to compliment her on how beautiful she looked, before someone beat him to it.

“You look vunderful, Minnie,” a heavily accented voice stated.

Despite the small pang of _something_ at seeing Hermione rush to hug the famous Viktor Krum, Fred couldn't help grinning at her radiant smile. She hardly smiled at all any more, and considering what she'd quietly told him about her parents... before making him swear to tell no one, not even George... Fred understood why. So he was more than happy to see her smiling again, even if he wasn't the one causing it. Besides, from the frequent amount of letters the pair exchanged, he already knew that Hermione was still close to Viktor, so it was hardly a surprise to see them grinning and hugging each other tightly. Who knew when they'd see each other again, or even if it would continue to be safe for them to simply write, so despite the interesting shade of tomato little Ronnikins had turned at the sight of Krum, Fred just felt happy for Hermione. He even smiled as he watched Viktor steal Hermione away for the first dance of the night, and the second, and the third. Granted, his grin might have become a little frozen, if he hadn't overheard the plucky witch asking the international Quidditch player about his new girlfriend. It was... _cute_ , seeing how genuinely interested and excited Hermione was for her friend. And it made Fred feel a lot less nervous about cutting in for the fourth dance, though he couldn't help giving the plucky witch a questioning luck, when Viktor winked at her as he left.

However, Hermione simply smiled at him, shaking her head. Realising he wasn't going to get an answer out of her, Fred narrowed his eyes. It was time for revenge. Using about the only bit of wandless magic he knew, he muttered a spell under his breath, and promptly turned Hermione's pretty lilac dress into a daring shade of red. She laughed, stepping away slightly to look down at her new outfit, before grinning up at him. Fred smirked, cast the same spell to change the bow tie of his dress robes into the same shade of red, before pulling Hermione back into a formal hold; one that Professor McGonagall would be proud of. Her smile was somewhat softer as they began to sway together in time to the melody, and Fred just couldn't resist bringing her hand that he was holding to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. His other hand splayed almost possessively on her lower back, and he could feel himself getting lost in her deep chocolate eyes.

“You sure you're not going to tell me what Viktor's wink was about?” he asked, still smiling.

Hermione gave a thoughtful hum, before she moved to drape both her arms around his neck. “He says it's time I tell the guy I've fancied for years that I like him...”

“Whoever the bloke is, he's one lucky sod,” Fred murmured, his eyes locked with hers.

“If he'll have me, I think I'd be the lucky one.” she replied, just as quietly. Her eyes darting to his lips, before meeting his eyes again.

“Yeah?” he whispered, beginning to lean down.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Fred's heart was hammering in his chest. Nerves and excitement and a little bit of wonder flooding his system, as he felt Hermione step impossibly closer, before she pushed up on her toes. A part of him couldn't believe they were being so cliché, sharing their first kiss at a wedding, but the rest of him was just ecstatically over the moon that he'd finally, _finally_ , stop having to hide how he felt about her. The hand splayed on her lower back moved to tighten his hold, and his free hand gently cradled the side of her face, tilting her chin up ever so slightly so he could finally press his lips to her perfect ones...

But then there was a sudden wooshing noise, and they both snapped their attentions in that direction. Something large and silvery crashed through the canopy, and the pair shared a worried glance. After working so long and hard at the DA meetings, Fred would know a Patronus charm anywhere, and as a gleaming lynx unfolded itself, Hermione whispered Kingsley's name. A moment later, the man's unmistakable deep voice informed the gathered crowd of the worst news since Dumbledore's passing; the ministry had fallen. On instinct, Fred gripped Hermione's hand tightly, as everything devolved into chaos. The gathered guests surged as a crowd, desperately trying to escape when masked and cloaked figures suddenly began to swarm the marque. In the madness, Ginny ran over with Hermione's beaded bag, Viktor hot on her heels.

“Minnie,” Krum stated. “What do you need...”

“Protect Ginny,” she interrupted. “Help Fred.”

He looked down at her, confused and worried as she tugged her hand out of his, even as Viktor lay a heavy hand on his shoulder. He watched, dazed, as Harry suddenly appeared at Hermione's side, before the pair went rushing through the terrified crowd shouting Ron's name. Fred almost shook Krum off to chase after her, before his little sister caught his wrist.

“We need to leave,” Ginny pleaded. “Now.”

“Trust, Minnie,” Viktor added. “She is smart.”

Fred nodded numbly, casting one last fleeting look at Hermione's retreating back, before rushing with the others to try round up his family and escape. He knew she was strong, the brightest witch of their age, but Fred just couldn't shake off the feeling that their almost kiss might have been the last time he'd ever see his plucky witch again.

 


	15. True Friendship (Harry's PoV)

With Ron keeping watch, Harry slipped back into the tent and found Hermione staring almost blindly into her cup of tea. Without even thinking, his feet carried him across the floor until he rested his hand on her shoulder. Her reaction was instantaneous. One moment, Harry was looking down at his best friend's riotous hair that was piled haphazardly on top of her head, the next Hermione was facing him with her wand brandished threateningly close to his nose. Thankfully, her intellect was as quick as her reflexes, since she seemed to recognise him immediately and relaxed her stance, otherwise Harry was pretty sure he'd be at least unconscious. He offered her a strained smile, completely understanding her reaction; camping out whilst on the run from Voldermort and his Deatheaters was taxing all three of them, but he knew Hermione was shouldering the most burden, since she was determined to keep them in relative comfort as well as alive. And as that thought crossed Harry's mind, he took a moment to really look at his best friend. His heart hurt at what he saw, because Hermione looked close to haggard.

He couldn't help wondering when was the last time she'd actually slept, or ate a full meal; since he'd caught her giving him and Ron the biggest portion of any 'real' food they scavenged, so they didn't need to eat much of the weak mushroom broth that Hermione made, but none of them liked. The dark circles under her eyes were beginning to look like bruises, and even though it had only been a couple of weeks since they'd fled from the wedding, her clothes were already starting to look baggy on her. In all honesty, he was worried. However, Harry knew Hermione wouldn't appreciate the sentiment, and would probably just push herself harder to try hide the fact she was struggling even more. So without a word, Harry just opened his arms, and smiled sadly when she fell into his embrace. Neither of them commented on the spilt cup of tea that still lay at their feet, that she'd dropped when he'd startled her. Nor did Harry mention that he knew Hermione was silently cry, when her shoulders started to shake. He just hugged her tighter, hoping that it would be enough; though couldn't stop his mind from wandering to Ginny, wondering if her and Fred were in a similar situation... he hoped not.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is chapter is completely new content.


	16. A Silent Night (Fred's PoV)

Fred couldn't help staring blindly at the unlit fireplace. He and George were heading over to the Burrow for Christmas Dinner in a matter of hours, and he'd been racking his brain all night for an excuse not to go. Because although things had naturally been strained ever since the Deatheaters crashed Bill's wedding, tensions had rocketed last week when Ron had come home _without_ Hermione and Harry. Fred's mind had immediately thought the worst, and hearing his little brother reassure everyone that they weren't dead did _nothing_ to make him feel better. He didn't believe for one minute that they'd gotten separated 'somehow', and he'd slugged Ron hard for obviously abandoning them. George and their Dad had to pull him away, their mother was furious, and that stupid prat had the actual nerve to ask _why_ he was so mad about it. Needless to say, Fred hadn't returned to the Burrow since, and even knowing Ginny was home didn't make him want to go; though he knew if anyone would understand what he was feeling, it would be his little sister.

He hadn't slept at all after George had bid him goodnight, despite sharing a bottle of Firewhiskey with his twin to toast Christmas Eve. Instead, he'd desperately been trying to think up an excuse not go; because Fred not only wanted to avoid Ron, but also the complete feeling of wrongness that would undoubtedly be there, knowing Hermione and Harry weren't where they should be. Home. With family. Fred couldn't stand the thought, and he'd sat staring at the unlit fireplace for hours, the small present he'd bought for Hermione loosely clasped in his hands. He glanced down at the package, his thumbs stroking absent-mindedly over the actually tasteful gold paper wrapping with it's Gryffindor red bow. It's was nothing big or extravagant, just a leather bound notebook... that he'd had customised with an engraving of an otter and stamped with her initials... just something small but thoughtful. Though it seemed to be destined to go back to it's hiding place under his bed, nestled in the box along with all the other gifts he'd bought but had never been brave enough to gift her over the years; a box of Honeydukes Best Chocolates, a first edition of Hogwart's a History, a self-inking quill that he'd created just for Hermione, and even a pretty silver and rose quartz necklace that he'd bought whilst wondering around a market in muggle London one day.

But just like the others, the notebook seemed doomed to remain ungifted and unwrapped, skulking the the dark recesses of his room. Though try as he might, Fred couldn't help his thoughts taking an even darker turn whilst his thumbs rubbed the silky paper. Because as he continued to stare into the unlit fireplace, he couldn't help wondering if one day he'd be burying the ungifted presents... and if he'd be burying them in place of a body they'd never find.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First up, I had to do two updates at once, because the last chapter was so utterly depressing. Granted, this one isn't much better, but it's not so bleak. Also, I adored this scene in the movie and just had to shamelessly cramp it into this story!


	17. Broken Little Hearts (Hermione's PoV)

It had been weeks... months even... since the wedding, since fleeing the Deatheaters, since escaping the Ministry, since getting the locket, since Ron leaving, since escaping Godric's Hollow and Nagini and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named... since she'd seen Fred. The locket felt like a cold, dead weight around Hermione's neck, and even though she tried to get lost in the book Dumbledore had left her, she just couldn't stop wondering if Fred was already dead. Had the shop been raided? Had he died protecting George? Had he been tortured to try find out where her and Harry were hiding? Had he died thinking she'd chosen Harry over him... just like Ron had accused her of doing when she wouldn't abandon their friend? The morbid thoughts whirled around and around in her head, the words on the yellowing book pages blurring as tears welled in her eyes. But then there was a hand, Harry's hand, in front of her face. He held it palm up, as if asking for hers. And as she blinked up at him, Hermione became vaguely aware of a song drifting quietly from the radio. She hadn't even realised Harry had switched it on. So many of their evenings were spent in silence, both of them too lost in their own thoughts; with the weight of the locket pulling them down, and their monumental task making the canvas walls feel like they were pressing in on them.

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking between Harry's hand and his face. Despite not wearing the locket, he looked just as wretched and travel worn as Hermione felt, and she realised all at once that if anyone was going to understand how she felt, it was Harry. Even taking away the daunting quest they were on, Harry would understand how she was feeling, what she worried about. Because Hermione knew, without a shadow of doubt, that he was missing and fretting about Ginny, just as much as she was over Fred. So she let Harry help her up, let him take the horrid locket from around her neck; and wanted to crack a tiny smallest smile at the way he disdainfully chucked it on the nearest bed, but not quite being able to. But she let him take hold of her hands, let him gently pull her into the middle of the tent. And though reluctant at first, Hermione let Harry make her dance, let him wave her waves around strangely, let him gently push and pull her until she was moving the the quiet music on her own accord. She cracked a smile as he got her to sway in grandiose swoops around the enclosed space, and actually huffed a laugh as he twirled under her arm, before pulling her into a sloppy formal hold that would have made Professor McGonnagal weep. Hermione followed Harry's lead, bobbing around completely out of time to the melody.

But despite the flash of enjoyment and happiness she'd felt in the moment, as the song faded out and they simply swayed together... their similar heights meaning they could both prop their chins on each other's shoulders... the weight of everything seemed to close around them again. Hermione's hands bunched into Harry's warm jumper, as his slid up between her flannel shirt and the plain t-shirt she wore beneath, and their cheeks pressed into each other's tightly. A strained smile tried to form on her lips, as she briefly wondered what Ginny would think of the stubble that prickled against her skin. Then Harry sighed and his arms wrapped around her tightly, prompting Hermione to hug him back just as fiercely.

“Sorry I'm not as good a dancer as Fred,” Harry muttered, into her hair.

“Sorry I'm not as a hugger as Ginny,” Hermione countered, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

“They'll be alright,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

“We'll see them again,” she whispered.

 


	18. Deception (Fred's PoV)

When Fred had retrieved Ron's patronus, stating he need to talk to him and George, he didn't know what to think. In all honesty, he wasn't inclined to go; not only because he still didn't want to see Ron, but also because their Mum had gone a little crazy, and was seriously trying to keep _all_ her children under lock and key. But somehow, his twin had talked him into going, which was why Fred was sat on the end of their little brother's bed, listening to him _beg_ them to help him escape the Burrow. And of course the moment Ron admitted that he needed to go back to help Hermione and Harry, Fred had caved, just like George. But getting passed their Mum was going to be the easy part. What they needed to think of was a foolproof way they could trick the Deatheaters that were masquerading as Ministry staff, when they inevitably came to the Burrow, demanding to know why Ron wasn't at Hogwarts; since attendance was now mandatory.

It was George who'd thought to involve their Dad, and naturally he'd agreed. And although it was their Dad that thought to use Spattergroit as the alibi, it was Fred that suggested asking the ghoul in the attic to help, who thankfully agreed. So late one night after their Mum had gone to bed, their Dad had helped the ghoul down into Ron's room, where he and George cast the illusion of Spattergroit's signature purple pustules, whilst Fred cast a concealment charm on his little brother. Hopefully, Ron's assumption that the Deluminator that Dumbledore had bequeathed him, would lead him back to Hermione and Harry was corrected. Though that didn't stop Fred from giving as many of the duel function items he and George had made, like smoke bombs... advertised for pranks, but created to help one escape during an emergency... as Ron could carry. Then the four of them crept downstairs, Fred and George first going with their Dad to see Ron off as he left through the kitchen's back door, before they went into the lounge to apparate to their flat above the shop; since their Dad had insisted on handling their Mum alone.

Fred collapsed onto the sofa the moment they reached their own living room, and gratefully accepted the glass of Firewiskey George poured for him. After drinking in silence, he bid his twin goodnight, but then sat staring at their fireplace... that was now disconnected from the flue network... like he'd done many nights since the outbreak of war; and as usual, his thoughts inevitably wandered to Hermione, hoping that she was somehow still safe and well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is completely new content.


	19. Friend or Foe (Hermione's PoV)

Hermione stared at the little portable radio, her heart pounding rapidly at the mere sound of _his_ voice. Of course it had been lovely to hear Lee, Kingsley and Remus again, to know they were alive and somewhat safe. But hearing Fred's voice again after so long, lifted a weight from Hermione's chest that she hadn't really appreciated she was carrying until that very moment. Hearing his voice again, cheerful and cheeky as always, had an unexpected wave of sheer relief crash into her. It left her feeling almost light headed. The utter assuagement she felt at knowing Fred was alive and unharmed, at least considering the jokes he was cracking, was overwhelming. Tears pricked her eyes as she listened to him speaking; listening intently to his words but mostly, desperately trying to memorise his cadence, just in case... well, just in case.

But the almost giddy feeling that had been bubbling up inside her, was snuffed out like a guttering candle just moments after 'Potterwatch' ended their broadcast. After weeks... months... of managing to stay a step ahead, one simple slip of the tongue from Harry had made Hermione's feelings of elation come crashing down around her head. Of course her heart was still pounding rapidly, but now for a very different reason, as they heard voices outside their tent. Barely any thought went into raising her wand at Harry, only feeling slightly guilty for the pain she knew she was about to cause... but only slightly. He was better off with a stinging, swollen face than being recognised. But as the snatchers dragged them out of the tent, as she immediately recognised Greyback and felt her skin crawl as his disgusting hands _stroked_ her face, Hermione frantically wondered why she didn't cast some sort of charm on herself. Especially when the snatchers managed to identify her only moments later, making things go from bad to worse.

After being forcefully disapparated to Malfoy Manner, Hermione's heart sunk further when she heard Narcissa Black state Draco was home, and would know if they were who Greyback claimed they were. Hermione knew there was no love lost between the three of them and Draco; since throughout their school years, Malfoy had taken every public opportunity to look down on her 'blood status', so Hermione was certain he'd confirm who they were without any qualms. After all, he-who-must-not-be-named was residing in his home, why wouldn't he readily hand them to his master? But then as Draco came closer, his steps far slower and more reluctant than she'd expected, Hermione saw a look on Malfoy's paler than usual face that she'd never seen before. Fear. He looked at Harry's swollen face, before his grey eyes flickered momentarily to her, then back at Harry. Her blood was thundering in her own ears, almost too terrified to breath before Draco quietly stated he 'couldn't be sure' that it was Harry, and that it could only 'maybe' be her and Ron.

Though once again, any feeling of relief... and the tiny surge of gratitude she felt for Draco actually _trying_ to help them, even against his own parents' best efforts to identify them... vanished the moment a recognisable figure strutted into the foyer. After what happened to Sirius, Hermione would have recognise Bellatrix Lestrange anywhere. And she knew, she _knew_ , things were going to get a whole lot worse. She didn't need to see Draco's terrified eyes stare at her, didn't need to see the boy who'd been her nemesis for so long look scared _for_ her, to know she probably wasn't getting out of this alive. But perhaps Harry would. Draco hadn't given him away yet, so there was still a chance Harry would survive. And not just Harry, but Ron too. And thinking of Ron naturally made her think of Fred. So as she struggled against Bellatrix' hold on her hair, frightened yet somehow still angry and desperately trying to fight in some way, Hermione couldn't help being thankful she at least got to hear Fred's voice one last time before she died.

 


	20. Standing By (George's PoV)

It had been months since there'd been any sight or sound of Harry and Hermione, weeks since there'd last been an update on Ron, and only days since they'd had to abandon the shop and move into Muriel's, when Bill's patronus had suddenly dashed into the house and informed them that several missing people were now safe at Shell Cottage. Harry and Ron were among them, as was a gravely injured Hermione. Fred had been on his feet in an instant, and it had taken a combined effort of George, their Dad and Ginny to stop him from rushing out of the house so he could apparate. Not that he could fault his brother in wanting to rush off to the girl he obviously loved, but that didn't stop George from getting their little sister to help physically sit on Fred to stop him running off. Though about the only thing that stopped his twin's mad struggling was their Dad promising he'd talk to Bill via the two-way mirror they had, and Ginny pointing out that their eldest brother would do everything he could for Hermione.

Though that still didn't stop George from having to grab Fred again... after only just letting him sit back up... when their Dad quietly informed them that Harry and Ron weren't saying much, but it appeared that Hermione had been hit with the cruciatus curse, as well as been injured with what Bill thought was a cursed blade. The witch in question was alive but barely lucid, and George had tried to reason with Fred that Hermione wouldn't even know he was there _and_ that he'd just get in Bill's way whilst he treated her; because if anyone in their family knew about curses, it was Bill. His argument seemed to work, if only slightly, though George wasn't going to risk letting Fred out of his sight. Since despite completely understanding why his twin wanted to rush to Hermione's side, they _had_ to follow orders. And even though they'd never been particularly fond of rules, Ginny very validly reasoned that Hermione _was_ and that she wouldn't want Fred breaking any on her behalf. Oddly, that did seem to calm their brother down a little. If the given value of calming down was rated between storming out of the house in a mad panic, and to calmly accepting the news and relegating his worry to asking for updates, then Fred hovered somewhere between wearing a hole in the rug from all his pacing, and causing himself an actual injury by punching an undeserving wall.

So knowing Fred wasn't about to get any sleep until there was any real news on Hermione, George opted to sit up with his brother; his arms wrapped firmly around his twin, and not commenting on the way Fred's whole body shuddered with the force of his sobs. The next day didn't go much better, and George clearly saw through Fred's forced cheerfulness, as did Ginny. Their Dad probably did too, since he'd slipped some Firewhiskey into Fred's morning coffee without their Mum noticing, but nobody said anything; Muriel too busy complaining about the ever growing number of people seeking refuge at her house, and their Mum too busy looking after said people. So George did his best to keep an eye on his twin... and their little sister... trying his best to keep them occupied with some mundane work for their continued Owl Order business, just to keep their minds off Hermione and Harry. Because despite how composed Ginny was acting, George knew she was worried about her not-quite-boyfriend just as much as Fred was worried about his not-yet-girlfriend. However, he didn't think his efforts paid off much, since dinner was a sombre affair, with Fred barely saying a single word the entire meal.

So as the hours wore on, with the rest of the house traipsing to bed and the mantle clock striking eleven, George prepared himself for another night like the last. Though just as he was about to suggest they go get some tea... or Firewhiskey... a silvery ball of light barrelled into the living room. George stood stock still, his gaze flitting between his twin and the shimmering otter that unfurled itself. He watched as Fred's hand shakily reached out for the patronus, watched as he sucked in a shuddering breath, watched as he suddenly crashed to the floor... his knee buckling under what must have been sheer relief... when the otter opened it's mouth and Hermione's weak but unmistakable voice quietly stated:

“I miss you.”

 


	21. Reunions (Fred's PoV)

More weeks passed by, as Fred tried to content himself with the occasional interruption of his day to day life by Hermione's patronus; since the two way mirror was only to be used in emergencies. Fred vehemently hated that rule, and hated having to stay away from Hermione even more, but he grudgingly understood that he had to tow the line for once. Everyone's safety depended on _everyone_ following the rules. But then came news of an attempted break in at Gringots, and more amazingly the news of a break _out_ of the bank; namely Harry, Ron and Hermione flying out on the back of a dragon. Fred had never been more proud of her in his life, and just a few days later, the old DA coin that Ginny insisted he and George start carrying again began to grow warm. He recognised the summons immediately, and in the dead of night whilst their parents were sleeping, the twins had apparated their sister into the Hog's Head, before all three rushed after Luna and Dean into what Fred assumed must be the Room of Requirement. But he had little time to look around at the hammocks and brightly coloured house banners, because as it always had, his gaze immediately found Hermione. And even though he made a quip about Harry's plan, or lack there of, Fred's eyes remained locked on his favourite witch. He was worried by what he saw.

Hermione's figure that had always been slender was now bordering on skinny, her pretty face that had never been round, was now almost gaunt, and dirt was smudged across her cheeks and forehead. Her usually unruly hair was truly a wild tangle of fizz and half curls, barely kept at bay by a loose plait, and her dark jeans, pink hoodie and light denim jacket had all seen better days. But in all honesty, as Fred looked at the plucky witch, he fell in love with her all over again. But he waited just long enough for Harry to finally tell them all what he, Hermione and Ron had been doing all these months, or at least the gist of it... just long enough for Luna to go take Harry to see what this diadem they needed looked like, just long enough for Ron to get distracted by that bloody Lavender girl, just long enough for Neville to release Hermione from a friendly hug... before Fred _finally_ closed the distance between them. His gaze swept over her once more, taking in how utterly exhausted she looked, before being blown away by the creeping smile that tugged at her now cracked and obviously chewed lips, as she looked up at him. Because after everything she'd been though, Fred was blown away that Hermione was still smiling... for him.

Unable to help it, his hands shook as he cradled her face, his fingers smoothing back some wayward strands of hair, before he leant down and pressed his lips to her forehead. He heard Hermione's breath shudder, as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. It was all the prompting Fred needed to really pull her into his arms, holding her just as fiercely as she held him. Tears pricked his eyes as Hermione pressed her cheek into his chest, prompting him to almost curl protectively around her; his nose ending up buried in her mess of curls, smelling the scent of brick dust, fire and oddly lake water that seemed to cling to her.

“What the ruddy hell?” Ron demanded, somewhere behind him.

“Shush,” Ginny scolded.

“But that's Fred... and Hermione... they don't even... like each other... do they?” Ron muttered, obviously confused.

Seamus' unmistakable laugh could be heard.

“You really didn't know?” Neville asked, sounding surprised.

"Know what?” Ron demanded.

“They've fancied each other for years, mate,” Lee explained.

“Love more like,” George muttered.

“It's so romantic...” Lavender of all people gushed.

Fred felt more than heard Hermione begin to chuckled, her shoulders shaking, and when he tilted his head just a little to catch her eye, she actually grinned up at him. He hugged her tighter, amazed that after everything, she could still laugh at their friends being idiots. She was amazing. He was so bloody proud of her. Matching her smile with a smirk of his own, Fred pressed another kiss to her forehead, though itching to finally capture her lips with his; but call him a romantic, since he'd really prefer their first kiss to be somewhere with more privacy, and less spectators waiting for a show. Perhaps Hermione felt the same, since she just squeezed him tighter.

“I missed you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his coat.

“I know,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I missed you too.”

 


	22. Tumbling Down (Hermione's PoV)

Just like before, the incredible, overwhelming, bubbling feeling of relief she felt because of Fred... of just being in his arms, hugging him tight... crumbled around her. Oh, it held a little longer than last time... lasting whilst she and Ron had gone to the Chamber of Secrets and managed the grizzly task of yanking out basalisk fangs, holding fast as Hermione destroyed Helga Hufflepuff's cup, and even remained through escaping the blaze in the Room of Requirement. It had lasted during the satisfaction of saving Draco; of returning the favour he'd tried to do for them, more than once, if the way he'd tried to control his lackies were anything to go by. It had held after realising the fiendfire had destroyed the diadem, and continued to hold as they'd run into Fred and Percy duelling side by side, and lasted as Hermione sent a stunning spell at the Deatheater Fred was fighting. But then in one terrifying explosion, her world came tumbling down, along with the blasted wall that had fallen on them all. Coughing and spluttering, she grabbed Harry's dusty hand when he offered it to her, wincing as she tried to put weight on a sprained... possibly broken... ankle. Though the throbbing pain Hermione felt throughout her whole body, was nothing compared to the stabbing heartache she felt when she suddenly heard Percy shout Fred's name. Her head snapped up, her streaming eyes squinting to see through the floating brick dust, barely making out a shock of red hair peaking from beneath the ruined wall.

Hermione did the only thing she could do, she screamed.

She felt both Harry and Ron wrap their arms around her waist, pulling her down to the rubble littered floor as another spell exploded over head. But she didn't care. Desperately, she tried to crawl away from them and their tight hold, her bloodied and most likely broken fingers outstretched towards Fred's unmoving... lifeless... body, that Percy had thrown himself over to protect as more spells whizzed and crackled above them. However, everything felt as if it was going in slow motion. Sounds and voices reached Hermione as if underwater, her own rushing blood and thundering heartbeat too loud in her ears. The metallic tang of blood and the acrid taste of bile mingled in the back of her throat. Her eyes stung with floating dust and unshed tears. Her heart pounded erratically as she desperately, _desperately,_ tried to make it to Fred. Because if she could just get there, if she could just see, then she'd know what to do. She'd know what spells, what charms, what potions were needed to revive him. Because he couldn't be dead. He _couldn't_. Not him, not the larger than life Fred Weasley.

But then Ron was dragging her up, pushing her forward, making her move... but move in the wrong direction. Away from Fred. She tried to fight, tried to dig in her heels, even as he continued to push her along the ruined corridor. Hermione tried to push back. She wouldn't... _couldn't_... leave Fred. She turned her head frantically trying to see him, and nearly tripped over her own feet as she watched Harry and Percy hoisting Fred's still unmoving body between them. A strangled cry was ripped from her throat, and she was almost sure that only Ron's surprisingly quick reflexes kept her on her unsteady feet, when she realised they weren't making her leave Fred behind. The sheer relief Hermione felt that Harry had him, made her woozy. He was still lifeless, but once they were somewhere safer, somewhere that she could check him over, Hermione was certain... _certain..._ he'd be okay. Or at least on the mend. Or at least alive. Because no matter what, no matter the horrors they'd faced so far, Hermione was positive life wouldn't be so cruel as to rip Fred Weasley from her. It just couldn't do that to them...

 


	23. Living Nightmare (George's PoV)

When Hermione's patronus had found him in the midst of the confusion, George didn't fully understand the implications of what came out of the otter's mouth: his twin's name and a rough location within the school. Still, he and Bill had rushed to where it had directed them, and George had crashed to his knees at the sight. Fred's body placed carefully in an alcove as if to hide it. His twin wasn't moving, didn't seem to be breathing, but it didn't seem real. George had been in a daze as he helped Bill carry Fred into the Great Hall, laying him down beside the equally unmoving... dead... bodies of Remus and Tonks.

Unable to help it, George all but collapsed to the floor, huge sobs racking his body as he watched their Mum rush to them, only crumple over Fred's body. Her sobs drowned his out, though he was so consumed with the utter devastation he felt, that George was only vaguely aware of the rest of his family. Of Ginny giving him a tight hug. Of Bill, Percy, Charlie... who'd come back unannounced... and their Dad hugging him or gripping his shoulder in solidarity. Then Ron was there, practically barrelling into him with the force of his hug, before he joined their mum crying over Fred. George couldn't bare it, his body almost rocking with the force of his sobs. But then out the corner of his eye, he noticed a pair of beat up but familiar trainers. He looked up, his whole body still shuddering, to see Hermione standing there with silent tears running down her cheeks. She looked... dazed wasn't the word. She looked as devastated as he felt, but amazingly, there was still that shrewdness that always seemed to blaze in the witch's eyes. A gleam of intelligence that made you feel like she knew something that you didn't, and though it may have been clutching at straws, George clung to that sudden notion just as tightly as he reached up and gripped her hand.

“Do you... do you think...”

His throat constricted, he couldn't get the words out. Desperately wanting but not daring to hope. But if anyone would know what to do, it was Hermione. She'd kept Ron and Harry and herself safe for months; who was he kidding, she'd kept them safe for _years_. She was the smartest witch of their age, and if anyone knew what to do to make his nightmare end, it would be Hermione. And it seemed he wasn't to only one who thought so. Since after she silently squeezed his hand then limped forward, Ron staggered to his feet and actually dragged their Mum away from Fred. George scrambled across the floor on his knees, offering Hermione a shaking hand so she wouldn't hurt her obviously injured leg further, as she got down to sit awkwardly beside his twin. Unable to help it, George more or less hovered, trying to calm his shuddering breath as he watched over Hermione's shoulder, as she carefully took hold of Fred's wrist... her index and middle finger resting over the veins... before she moved her hand to press the same fingers to the side of Fred's neck.

What happened next, happened all at once.

Hermione quickly struggled to her knees, almost knocking George out the way, as she yelled for Madam Pomfrey. His eyes widened as the plucky witch then leant over his twin, and he thought for one moment that she was going to kiss Fred, until she turned her head at the last second; her ear pressed almost to his brother's lips. She practically screamed for the healer when she sat back up, and unable to think of anything else to do, George pressed his own wand into her hand when she began to look about the floor, presumably for one she'd dropped. Their eyes locked for a heartbeat as he squeezed her fingers around the wood, her lips twitched; not into a smile exactly, more a line of determination, though perhaps it was even a promise. George wasn't exactly sure, but something started to ever so slightly unclench in his chest as Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonnagal hurried over, and Hermione started actually barking orders at them. Firing off potion names and ingredients he'd never heard of, before she turned her attention back to Fred, and started to murmur lightening fast spells along with incantations that George couldn't quite catch. He probably wouldn't have recognised them anyway, considering the way McGonnagal seemed to blink at Hermione in surprise, before their head of house called Professor Flitwick over.

Stunned, George couldn't do much else than let his eyes drift up to look at the rest of his family; all of whom were staring at the two witches and the wizard who were now muttering layer upon layer of unrecognisable spells, before Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout bustled back into the Great Hall carrying armfuls of ingredients and potion brewing equipment. At that exact moment, just as George felt like his mouth was about to simply hang open in shock at these senior witches scurrying around doing Hermione's bidding, Ron caught his eye. His younger brother gave him a watery smile, and he could do little but nod in agreement. An understanding... a conviction... settled in his chest as he looked back at the scene unfurling in front of him. If anyone could pull this miracle off, it was Hermione.

 


	24. Miracles (Hermione's PoV)

Hermione curled up in the high-backed chair, familiar arms holding her so close that her cheek was smushed against his collar bone. Not that she really minded; even if she wasn't in the arms of the guy she really wanted it to be. A small sigh escaped her at the thought, and she felt lips press softly to the top of her somewhat tamed hair, before a soft and familiar voice murmured her name.

“I'm alright, George,” she whispered.

“Thought you'd dozed off,” he replied, quietly.

She shook her head. “I couldn't. What if I miss...”

“I know,” he interrupted, softly. “I'm the same.”

Sighing again, Hermione wiggled until she was sat up on George's knee instead of curled against his chest, and her eyes immediately fell to the unconscious figure that lay in the hospital bed next to them. Without really thinking, she leant forward to capture Fred's nearest hand in hers, and a moment later, George's curled around both of theirs. It was a familiar scene, the pair of them keeping vigil beside Fred's sickbed. But just like every evening for the last week, the elder twin hadn't stirred; not that either of them expected him to, and not that they could really complain. Because when she'd seen Fred's lifeless body underneath that wall, despite her frantic half-processed thoughts, Hermione had really thought she'd lost him. And later, when she'd approached his grieving family in the Great Hall, she'd been sure she was going over to mourn with them. But then George had uttered his broken plea; looking up at her like she could somehow reverse their shared nightmare, and Hermione knew she would never live with herself if she didn't at least try.

Whether she'd genuinely believe there was a chance, or if it was just an attempt to prove to herself that he was really gone, Hermione still didn't know. But she'd sat down to check Fred's body, not with magic, but with the common muggle methods her parents had once taught her. Checking for a pulse and for breathing, and to her utter amazement, she found both. Granted, they were incredibly weak, but they were there. Everything had been a blur after that, and Hermione wasn't entirely sure she believed George's account that she'd immediately started bossing the professors around; though it was bound to make Fred laugh once he woke up. But the next thing she was fully, genuinely, one hundred percent aware of, was sitting on a hospital bed herself, whilst her fractured leg properly mended; instead of the temporary Episky she'd tried to fix it with. Then George was there, and had insisted on giving her a piggy-back ride to his twin's hospital room, and they'd actually been pretty inseparable ever since. Sharing a room in the Burrow despite Mrs Weasley's initial protests, sharing meals and late night conversations, and always visiting Fred together. Everyone had been surprised by their new found closeness, Hermione included if she was being honest, but George had cleared that up... to her at least... late one night by whispering:  
  
“Harry might be everyone else's hero, but you're mine. You saved Fred's life, and that's everything to me.”

Hermione hadn't known what to say to that, so she did the only thing she could think to do, and finally told another soul that she utterly in love with Fred Weasley. The admission had brought her and George even closer together, and he'd insisted that along with Harry, she'd have him for a brother for life; which cemented their inseparable status, more of less. And as much as Hermione would always love Harry and Ron, she couldn't deny that it was nice to have someone who supported her as much as she supported them. Besides, Ginny was busy fussing over Harry, and Ron had taken to visiting Lavender whilst she was in hospital recovering from Greyback's attack, so for once Hermione could focus on what _she_ needed to... which was Fred. Even if he was still in a magically induced coma, to help reduce the pressure on his brain. But according to the healers, he would make a good recovery, and at the end of the day, that was all Hermione and George could ever hope for.

 


	25. Daybreak (Fred's PoV)

The first thing Fred noticed, was pain. Which he supposed was good in an abstract way, since it obviously meant he was still alive. But the way his head, upper back and his wand arm throbbed wasn't pleasant in the least, neither was the way his legs tingled... like the worst case of pins and needles he'd ever experienced... nor was the way the light stabbed his eyes when he tried to open them. He gave an involuntary hiss of pain, and immediately felt a warm weight settle over his left hand. 

“Nox,” murmured a very familiar voice, before it stated: “Light's off, Gred. You can wake up now.”

Fred cautiously blinked his stinging eyes open again, surprised to find George grinning down at him. He frowned. His twin looked far too cheerful for the situation they were in, though he could no longer hear the sounds of battle raging. Fred slowly turned his head, trying not to aggravate the thumping headache he had, and was stunned that instead of the dust and debris filled corridor of Hogwarts he'd been in moments ago, he was in a sterile hospital room that looked similar to the one their Dad had stayed in after he'd been attacked. 

“What...?”

“We're in St Mungo's,” George explained, his smile dimming a little. “You've been here three weeks.”

“Three... weeks. What... what happened?” he mumbled, confused. “The battle? The wall? What...?”

“We won!” his twin announced, beaming. “Trust you to sleep through it all, getting as bad as Ronnikins. Harry defeated old Volde. Mum killed Bellatrix. Ron and Neville killed Greyback. Oh, and Hermione saved your life. So you know, totally uneventful.”

“Saved my...?”

“We thought...” George paused, tears welling in his eyes. “We thought you were dead. A wall collapsed on you. Harry and Percy dragged you out, but everyone thought you were dead. And then Hermione was there, doing some sort of muggle check and insisting you were still alive. You should have seen her, ordering everyone around. She got you stable enough that we could bring you here after the battle, and the healers have done the rest.”

“What... what's wrong with me?” Fred asked, studying his twins face.

“You had some bleeding on your brain, which is why they put you in a coma,” he explained. “The wall also dislocated your wand arm and shatter the shoulder blade, and I think they said you'd broken part of your lower back. Hermione said your legs would be permanently paralysed if you were muggle, but the healers are sorting it... said there'd be some tingling until everything fully heals.”

Fred huffed a weak laugh. “They weren't wrong. Is... everyone else okay?”

“Mum and Dad, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron, Ginny, Harry and of course Hermione are all okay. Bit banged up here and there, but everyone's fine,” his twin replied, quietly. “Lee, Neville, Luna, and most of the DA got out alright, same for most of the Order. We lost Remus and Tonks though, along with about fifty others at the school. But somehow the Deatheaters had much higher loses.” 

“But Hermione, is she...?” he asked, glancing around the quiet room.

George chuckled. “She'll be back in a moment. She's only gone for a check up, after... you know... after Bellatrix. Bill's with her. And I've already sent her a message.”

As if on cue, Hermione barrelled through the door looking breathless. “George, I got your patronus, what's happened? Is he...?” 

She trailed off as her gaze fell to him, blinking as if she couldn't believe her eyes. Fred watched as she looked to his twin for reassurance, who merely smiled, before she suddenly rushed forward. Fred braced himself for impact the best he could, but instead of a painful yet welcome hug like he was expecting, Hermione instead gently cradled his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. Gingerly, he wrapped his arms around her waist, relieved when she moved to perch on the bed beside him without hesitation. Fred couldn't help staring up into her pretty face as she smiled down at him; only slightly concerned at the tears in her eyes.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Relieved,” she murmured in reply.

George suddenly cleared his throat before stating: “I'm just going to contact the others.”

“You don't need to leave because of me,” Hermione said, glancing over her shoulder.

“You're not going to get a lot of privacy once everyone knows this lazy ass is finally awake,” George chuckled. “Just do me a favour, tell him what you've already confessed to me and we'll call it even.” 

With that, his twin quietly stepped out the room, leaving Fred to look at Hermione utterly confused and feeling suddenly nervous. Had she changed her mind about him? Had she gone and fallen for George whilst he was unconscious?

“Confess what?” he asked, hesitantly.

“There's something I need to do first,” Hermione stated, smiling at him softly.

To Fred's relief and complete delight, she leant down and gently pressed her lips to his. Almost on their own accord, his arms tightened around her waist as he returned her kiss with a little more pressure; over the moon that they were finally here. Though as his tongue teased the seam of her intoxicating lips, Hermione pulled away giggling. Despite his best efforts, Fred couldn't help feeling a little hurt. He'd thought her kiss meant she wanted to be with him just as much as he wanted her.

“You haven't brushed your teeth in three weeks,” she chided, smiling.

A laugh was startled out of him at her words; the hurt immediately evaporating. “Fair enough,” he conceded. “Now... what's this confession?”

“So impatient,” Hermione said, sounding suspiciously affectionate. “Though I think you already know.”

“Stop teasing me,” Fred whined, giving her his best puppy dog impression. “I'm a poor, injured warrior. I need to know what my fair maiden has confessed to my evil, much less handsome twin.”

“And they warned us you might be groggy when you regained consciousness...” she smiled, shaking her head. 

“Obviously never encountered a Weasley twin before,” he retorted, grinning.

Hermione huffed a laugh. “Evidently. Though if you really want to know...” she leant in to press her lips almost to his ear as she whispered: “I think I'm in love with you.”

“Want to know a secret?” he whispered back, trying not to grin. “I know I'm in love with you.”


	26. Moving Forward (Hermione's PoV)

Hermione had sequestered herself in the corner of the twins' beat up couch, and had been reading her book quite happily, before a she found a shock of red hair in her lap. Though when she peered down from her page, she discovered it wasn't the twin she'd been expecting. Instead of Fred, she had George's head pillowed on her thigh, though that didn't stop Hermione from marking her place before setting her book on the coffee table. Then without really thinking, she started to card her fingers through George's hair; she was sure that if he was capable, he'd be purring like Crookshanks. And as if thinking of the cat had summoned him, the orange ball of fluff and fury chose that exact moment to jump onto George's stomach. He groaned at the unexpected impact.

“Bloody menace,” he grumbled.

“Fits right in here then,” Hermione retorted, smiling fondly.

“Like cat, like owner,” a voice by the door called.

Regardless of the fact that she'd vehemently deny it if anyone... George... ever suggested it, Hermione's stomach suddenly felt like it was full of butterflies, as she tilted her head to look at Fred. He'd only been released from hospital last week, and had refused to go back to the Burrow, insisting that he wanted to go back to his shared flat above the shop. Of course George had been ecstatic at that, as had Hermione; who'd been staying with the younger Weasley twin, much to Mrs Weasley's vocal disapproval. But after everything that had happened during the war, Hermione couldn't bare to be mollycoddled, and had politely refused the woman's insistence that she stayed at the Burrow like Harry. But her best friend was only there because his favourite Weasley was too, whereas Hermione's had been at St Mungo's, whilst her second favourite had returned home to the flat the twins in Diagon Alley. So she'd more or less invited herself over, though George had saved her the trouble of having to ask if she could stay, by simply assuming she was, since he'd made a passing comment that he'd changed the sheets on Fred's bed so it was fresh for her to use. Though when the elder twin had finally been released from hospital, Hermione had insisted she'd take the sofa. George had tried to argue that _he'd_ take the sofa and she could have his room, though Fred had settled that pretty quickly, by almost shyly asking if she'd really mind sharing a bed with him. They'd slept in each other's arms every night since.

It had been surprisingly easy to fall into a rhythm with the twins, even from the first day that the three of them... four if Hermione included Crookshanks, who the twins had been cat-sitting for her ever since the summer before the war... had been under the same roof. Though despite what George's smirk might have implied each morning she left Fred's room, nothing more than cuddling up and kissing had happened between them when they went to bed at night. Not that Hermione would have minded if it had, but Fred was still healing from his brush with death; and it wasn't like they hadn't already been waiting _years_ just to get to this point, so they both knew how to be patient. Still, that didn't stop the butterflies that invaded her stomach every time she glanced at her boyfriend. Especially when he looked like he did now, toned torso left bare and his growing hair slicked back and still dripping from the shower. Without really meaning to, Hermione's gaze followed a droplet as it ran down Fred's neck and pale chest, down his defined stomach and towards the waistband of his low slung sweatpants, before her chocolate eyes snapped up to his. George cleared his throat loudly, before rolling off the couch.

“Well... I'm going to leave you two lovebirds alone, and go open the shop,” he stated, before striding to the door.

“Give me a shout if you need a hand,” she called, but her gaze remained locked with Fred's.

Whether or not the younger twin replied, Hermione didn't know; she was far too focused on watching her boyfriend close the distance between them. Instinctively, she got up and met him half way, only to find herself walking backwards with Fred's hands on her hips, until she gently collided with the sofa. Then without warning, he deftly picked her up, though before Hermione could chide him for over-exerting himself, Fred set her on the back of the sofa. It left her the perfect height to gently wrap her legs around his waist, and for once she didn't have to strain to be able to reach his mouth, as his lips finally pressed to hers. Hermione draped her arms over Fred's broad shoulders, whilst his snaked around her waist, before she slowly licked the seam of his lips, the moment he kissed her. He tasted of minty fresh toothpaste, and smelt like lemon and cedarwood, but before either of them could get too carried away, water began to drip from his hair on to Hermione's hands, making her giggle. Fred grinned as he pulled away to lightly kiss the tip of her nose, before resting his forehead against hers.

“I like you living here, with us... with me,” he murmured, his gaze surprisingly intense. “And I know you'll be going back to Hogwarts... ah ah...”

He gentle pressed a finger to her lips, when she opened her mouth to deny it.

“Mione, I know you. Despite everything that's happened, I know you'll go back to finish your studies, despite the Ministry offering to simply hand you a diploma right now,” Fred continued, smiling affectionately. “You _love_ studying, and it's utterly adorable, and I will support you a hundred and ten percent... my beautiful bookworm.”

Hermione entwined her fingers with his, before lowering his hand from her mouth, though didn't say anything, opting to smile at him warmly instead.

“I hope you know that,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I will _literally_ support you, even though I know you're an independent woman who doesn't need me to. I want you to know that I will, that I'd be happy to. I want you to be able to pursue your dreams, since you were always there supporting mine... mine and George's, and I know he feels that same about this.”

“About what?” she asked, a lump suddenly in her throat.

“Would you move in with me... us... properly, permanently?” Fred asked, seriously. “I know you're planning to track down your parents, but until you find them, I... we... don't want you worrying about having a roof over your head. And apart from that... I _really_ like waking up to you every morning. I know we've not been dating that long, and I understand if you don't want to, but just know that the offer will always be there if you...”

“Fred,” Hermione interrupted, actually grinning. “I'd love to.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is completely new content.


	27. New Beginnings (Harry PoV)

Harry grinned as Ginny settled back into his arms, as they sprawled on the couch in front of the fire at the Burrow. Everyone had gathered there for Christmas Eve, and it felt like the first time in a long while, that he got to be with all his favourite people at the same time; what with him and Ron being busy with Auror training, Fred and George busy with the shop, whilst Hermione and Neville had elected to go back to Hogwarts to finish their seventh year with Ginny and Luna. Bill and a heavily pregnant Fluer had also come for the celebration, as had Percy and his new girlfriend. Even Charlie had taken time away from the dragon sanctuary in Romania, and had brought Hagrid over to spend Christmas at the Burrow; since his hut still hadn't been rebuilt. Mr Lovegood and Mrs Longbottom had joined them, and even Andromeda had come with Teddy, so Harry had doted on his godson until it had been the baby's bedtime. But as amazing as the whole day had been, nothing really beat witnessing what was happening in the middle of the Weasley's living room right then. Because there Fred was, down on one knee, in front of a stunned looking Hermione, who was perched on the edge of an armchair with a hand clamped firmly over her mouth in shock. And Harry had to admit, he'd definitely be asking the older twin for ideas, for when he eventually proposed to Ginny; because what Fred had thought up was pure genius.

They'd all been sat exchanging presents... since there'd been unanimous agreement that tomorrow would be all about Teddy, because not only was it the baby's first Christmas, but Tonks and Remus wouldn't be there to spoil their little boy rotten... when Fred had casually handed Hermione a small gift. He hadn't made a big deal of it, had just kissed her on the cheek, before handing the next gift to Bill and Fluer. Harry hadn't thought anything of it, until Ginny had nudged him in the ribs. So he'd looked up just in time to see a miniature, silvery otter and hyena burst from the unassuming box, before tiny Gryffindor red and gold fireworks erupted. Then, with her hands trembling, Hermione had pulled out a stunning black stoned ring that Ginny quietly informed him was obsidian, and he'd vaguely remembered it was supposed to protect the wearer from curses and ill will; so considering what his best friend had been through, Harry had to admit it was perfect. However, instead of Fred asking Hermione what everyone gathered was expecting him to, George suddenly shoved his twin out of the way, before taking up Fred's position on one knee in front of Hermione. Everyone exchanged confused and occasionally nervous glances. Well, everyone accept the twins and his best friend, Harry noticed. Since she was grinning at the identical Weasley's, whilst the brothers each held one of her hands.

“Hermione Jean Granger,” George said, dramatically. “Would you make me the happiest man alive, and agree to marry my uglier twin brother, so we can officially be siblings.”

“I'd love too,” she laughed.

As one, the twins surged forward and practically swept Hermione off her feet with their hug. Harry couldn't help grinning, and he guessed he wasn't at all surprised that even in this, Fred and George had acted together. The twins were inseparable, that always had been. They did everything together, so he supposed it was only natural that they both loved Hermione; albeit in very different ways. And Harry could completely understand George's feelings, which meant he was the first one up and walking over to the trio, so he could pull the woman who was more his sister than his best friend, into a tight embrace. Because if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Hermione.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is completely new content.


	28. Epilogue (George's PoV)

George couldn't help grinning as he stood with his family on platform nine and three quarters. Who'd have thought that nineteen years after the war, they'd all be there to wave off their children... well, nearly all of them. Though Charlie had still come, with a baby Common Welsh Green asleep on his shoulder, which George supposed _was_ a child to his second eldest brother. But still, Bill and Fluer were there with Louis to see Victoire and Dominique off. Percy and Audrey were sending off both Molly junior and Lucy. Ginny and Harry were there with Lily to see off James and Albus. Ron and Lavender were there with Hugo waving off Rose. George himself was there with Angelina to see off their twins Fred junior and Roxanne. But best of all as far as he was concerned, was Fred and Hermione standing beside them, waving off _their_ twins George junior and Jean.

Unable to help himself, George turned to his own twin and grinned; it had been a bumpy ride to get them all here. After spending the first nineteen years of their lives looking completely identical, they'd spent the last nineteen being easily distinguishable. George with his missing ear, and Fred who often had to rely on a cane for balance, and wore tinted glasses to protect his permanently sensitive eyes from the light. But even his twin agreed it was a small price to pay for them both being alive, both marrying the loves of their lives, and both having amazing children to wave off to Hogwarts. Business was also booming, though they'd made a point of shutting shop today, so they could take their beautiful wives out for brunch once the train was out of sight. George was in such a good mood, that he even waved over Draco and his wife Astoria, once they got their son onto the train. And he really did try his best not to laugh, when the Malfoy's actually startled, when both Hermione and Harry shouted to their children to let Scorpius sit with them; because Merlin knew the poor boy didn't make many friends baring the Malfoy name. Though unsurprisingly, it seemed that Jean and Albus were already taking the boy under their wings, and as Draco almost cautiously glanced around the gathering of Weasley's, George lay a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“You two want to join us for brunch?” he asked, grinning.

“He means us and them,” Angelina clarified, gesturing between themselves, Fred and Hermione.

“We... wouldn't want to intrude,” Malfoy said, hesitantly.

“You wouldn't be,” Hermione assured, resting her hand on Draco's other shoulder. “You're more than welcome.”

“Are you sure?” Astoria asked, seeming surprised.

Fred chuckled. “Trust me, life's too short to hold grudges.”

At that moment, Harry jogged over and slung an arm companionably around Hermione's shoulders as he always did. “Glad I caught you all,” he greeted. “Tonight. Eight o'clock. Sound okay?”

There were a chorus of hummed approvals, before Harry turned to the Malfoy's.

“Draco, I was going to send an owl,” Harry grinned. “But since you're here... fancy coming for drinks tonight at Grimmauld Place. Officially, it's to celebrate finally getting Walburga's portrait off the wall. Unofficialy, it's to kick back whilst the are kids away, especially since Molly's having Lily and Hugo for the night.”

Malfoy looked between them all, including his wife, though his cautious grey gaze finally settled on Hermione... who gave an encouraging nod... before he turned back to Harry and held out his hand.

“Thanks, Potter. If you're sure, we'd be glad to come.”

 


End file.
